Yelling at Mountains; Ranting to Children

The dynamics of writing and the importance of reading

Photo by Pinal Jain from Unsplash

Some days I feel like a mad man yelling at mountains. Other days, I am the mountain; justified in mere existence.

Or I’m an out of place traveller, ranting prophecy at children that never understand me. Then I am a child; naive, impressionable, filled with wonder.

Writing evokes passion and confusing emotions when striving for authentic honesty. Something that is more important to me than viral success.

That’s not to say I don’t hope to be successful. I often speak of writing for the love of writing, but I still have an ego to feed, bills to pay, and a legacy to build.

If putting pen to paper or fingers to keys only produced joy, then I would never publish thousands of words to strangers every day.

No, I need justification. I need to be the mountain, if only for a day. Or the child, ignorant of my cynicism.

As much as I love yelling at mountains and ranting to children, I won’t continue learning if I don’t listen with a curious mind and meaningful presence.

If I’m not learning, I’m a hypocrite for expecting anything less than deaf ears and inattentive eyes when presenting anything to readers.

Writing is a symbiotic relationship that only completes once paired with reading.

This propells conversations to hypotheticals which influence dialogue, changes how we think, and inspires writers to encroach rare boundaries of imagination.

It’s a beautiful thing to be a part of.